Experiment 46 XL
by TheElementalWitch
Summary: They'll save us when the mutants rebel.  An experiment designed to protect mankind from the mutants is accidently set free when the Brotherhood attempts to assassinate a scientist who made her.  Who will win: Kilo or the outside world? OC story.


I don't own X-men. Blah, blah, blah...I'm tired so no witty author's note today, sorry. Read and review. I don't care if you only use one word in your analyasis of my writing, just give me a plus or minus.

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Gerald K. Lantom, Ph. D., paced rapidly down the hall, the echoes of his heavy footfalls bouncing eerie off the metal walls of the confined space. Tugging at his full orange beard, which he had grown to make up for the lack of hair on his cranium, he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. He had been called down to the surveillance room just as he was about to leave for his meeting with one of his biggest backers, whoever had declared the emergency had better have something important.

"What," Lantom burst into the small room and searched for the caller among the masses of computer screens.

"S-sir, there's a problem with Experiment #73 CD." The speaker was a new intern, his blue eyes quivered slightly and his neatly parted hair seemed to hang lankly to his shoulders as he watched the screen in front of him, shaking visibly.

Lantom circled the desk and studied the experiment in question. He was a young boy of about 9, brown hair stuck up widely and green eyes ablaze with madness. The live feed was on mute, but Lantom could see that he was screaming, clawing at his head like a madman. "C, his telepathy is getting out of hand, make sure you keep his telekinesis under control, and stop him from causing any more damage to his face." Lantom, thinking himself supremely kind for helping a lowly intern, pointed out the river of red that flowed from a scratch down the boys scalp and dripped from his chin. "I'll look back in on him when I get back."

Moving with a grace that contradicted his rotund figure, Lantom flew from the office and back upstairs. It was thanks to little episodes like the one the intern was watching that left him begging money from powerful people and companies instead of getting grants like his once colleagues.

"Inhuman" they called it. They were just too afraid to admit that the newest generation had almost the exact genetic make-up of a mutant. By giving these children a chance to evolve rapidly at a young age, he was actually freeing them, preparing them for the future.

"I think that should cover that problem temporarily," Lantom addressed the driver who would be taking him to the meeting. "Has the example been loaded?"

"There were a few complications sir, but their bringing it now."

"Very well," Lantom rested one arm on the top hybrid car, waiting for his creation to be packed onto the white truck parked nearby.

The first thing he noticed about the girl was the bonds, massive bubbles of adamantium engulfed both her hands and feet, all connected by heavy chains that connected to the thick collar that encircled her neck. Also made of the indestructible metal, this thin band was worn by all of his creations. It was used to anchor the bonds needed to control some powers, tracked the children, and the newest versions could be used to knock out-of-control experiments unconscious with a controllable electric shock.

"Experiment #46 LX, superhuman strength and heightened healing speed." Lantom turned to his notes, "Well if worst comes to worst at least we can shoot her. It would go over better than a show of strength, and keep things much safer." He turned to look back at the girl and was surprised to see her gray orbs locked onto his brown ones. Hatred, undiluted fury burned into him with steely fire.

Then she was gone, shoved roughly into the back of the refurbished police van. Caged for the safety of the world, until they realized how much they needed a controlled mutant, a protector. Lantom sighed and got into the backseat of his own car, going over his speech for the company president in his mind.

Kilo watched as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared as the guards sealed the doors shut. She closed her eyes before the artificial lights clicked on and savored her glimpse of multi colored, natural light. It was a sight to behold after almost three months of glaring white. She pitied the ones whose eyes burned agonizingly when forced into the sun, those who had missed out on the healing factor.

The contraptions on her hands and feet left her with no room to move her fingers, and crushed her hospital issue slippers painfully against her feet. They had clamped her head in place too, obviously worried that she was going to use her skull to bash her way out. She sighed and leaned against the cold metal behind her as best she could, resting her heavy hands on the bleached white scrubs, the same hospital issue brand she'd been wearing her entire life.

The rough edges of the "handcuffs" hurt as Kilo rubbed the tender skin of her wrist against the only thing that stopped her from punching her way out of the flimsy metal shell. She felt the blood trickle from the wound as she slit her wrists repeatedly, increasing the rotation of her fists. As usual, her shackles held steady, and her wrists closed up instantly.

The truck started with a rumble, causing the contraption that held Kilo's head in place to vibrate, jostling her skull with every bump the vehicle hit. The craftsmanship was faulty, and the headlock was obviously new. It made Kilo wonder again why they were taken her to a Show and Tell.

Usually the honor was reserved for the more graceful and poised experiments. At one time only Claw, Lantom's attempt to create a second Weapon X, had been the only one to leave the facility, dazzling people with his fancy footwork and flexibility. That was before he had been declared defective though.

A mental recap of all the sparring partners she had had in the last few months told Kilo that there had been a definite increase in defects of late. Considering only a fourth of the children who'd been mutated had survived the first three days, the rapidly decreasing number of her "family" meant that she could be put down soon herself.

Of course by definition she was a defect, the original plan for her had centered on the fact that she was to look like a model, be able to charm anyone, and pack a punch that could shake the very earth while healing the deadliest of injuries. The only area in which the scientists who had created her had succeeded was the power. Not that she hadn't gained some insight on social interaction from her sessions with the other mutants; she was one of the few in the Faculty who could function in a semi-normal manner. The body of the model however…she was tall, but tall and stocky, built like the battering ram she had been made to be with wide shoulders and large feet. But she had survived, she was effective, she would live for now.

The bumps on the road began to smooth, and the noises of passing cars reached Kilo's ears; the highway, human civilization at its fastest. She could only wonder where they were going, having never seen a map that had the Faculty marked on it. Come to think of it, she didn't even know where they were going…

Resigned to the fact that they could be driving her across the country, Kilo relaxed as best she could and opened her eyes slowly. The inside of the truck was so depressingly sterile and white that she wished she kept them closed. At least at the Facility she'd been allowed to put up posters and pictures that she would rip carefully from books and magazines. Gazing at maps of the world and packs of wolves that covered up the white tile ironically helped to white out the real world.

Kilo considered trying to get some more sleep, having been rudely awakened at 3:00 a.m. for some last minute training, but the clamp on her neck wouldn't even allow her that much. "Damn it all," her whisper sounded hoarse as it echoed around the confined space. She might as well have been in the sensory deprivation cell…

Lantom was sure they were being followed. It wasn't that he had seen someone physically trailing him, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the car began to slow suddenly. Something wasn't right; they were leaving the highway far too early.

Impatiently he tapped on the glass barrier between the driver and himself. "Where are we going?!"

"Sorry, unscheduled stop," The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, his eyes flashing yellow for an instant. When Lantom blinked they had turned back to their normal muddy brown, but he couldn't shake the feeling of paranoia.

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I can't believe I'm posting this but hey, we all do some things. Review people, chop chop! 


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